


Daddy Voorhees

by Orc_boy



Category: Friday the 13th Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Jason's perspective, M/M, Other, Porn With Plot, Reader's Perspective, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-01-30 18:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21432394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orc_boy/pseuds/Orc_boy
Summary: Jason is once again tasked to kill intruders into his home. But one of them clearly never meant to be there. He can't kill you, you're innocent, but he can't let you go, either.
Relationships: Jason Voorhees/Reader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 107





	1. The boy in the woods

Jason heard the car in the distance, the sound disrupting the peaceful atmosphere of Crystal Lake  
They shouldn’t be here, Jason. Make them suffer.  
As always, Mother was right. Jason grabbed his trusty machete, checking the blade to ensure it was still as sharp as ever. He began his trek to the lodge. Trespassers always go to the lodge. But this time they didn’t. Jason had only taken a few steps when he heard the car heading in the wrong direction. Did they get lost? Were they going somewhere else? It didn’t matter. They would die regardless. Jason switched directions, following the growl of the engine.  
Jason came upon the car and its occupants, a group of young men and women. Just as he was about to march into the clearing, one of the boys opened the trunk of the car and dragged a shape into the clearing.  
It was a young man with (Skin Tone) skin and (Hair Style) hair the color of (Hair Color). The first boy threw him onto the ground in the light of the headlights. He was limp, his arms and legs tied and a gag in his mouth. Bruises and cuts were scattered across his skin. One of the girls crouched down, pulled the gag down, and slapped him awake. Jason’s supernatural hearing allowed him to easily pick up on the conversation.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------Reader----------------------------------------------------------------  
Someone was slapping your face, just enough for a sting. You grunted as your body remembered all the places where they had hit you when they ambushed you and knocked you out. Your eyes blinked open. A girl’s face stared back at you with a smile that held no friendliness. She looked vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t place where you’d seen her before.  
“You broke my sister’s heart, (Y/N).” she said.  
“Buh…what?” you groggily stuttered.  
“Tori? Remember her? She fell in love with you and you played with her heart.” As she said the name, you saw Tori standing by the car, looking uncomfortable.  
“No…she…I didn—"  
“SHUT UP! She asked you out, the perfect girl, and you said no.”  
“I wasn’t interes—”  
“NO ONE CARES! YOU’RE A MAN! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO SAY YES! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!”  
“You know what?” one of the boys said “I bet he’s gay.”  
“Yeah, I bet this fucker is a dick loving faggot!” said the third girl.  
“If he likes dick so much, why don’t we give it to him?” Tori’s sister sneered. The question was greeted by hoots and hollers from the others. You tried to squirm away, but your hands and feet were tied, and your brain was still fuzzy from the knockout. The third girl and one of the boys grabbed and untied your feet, spreading them far apart. The biggest of the boys knelt at your crotch with a knife, which he used to cut your jeans and boxers away. Your weakened struggles did little. A part of your mind registered the look of horror and tears on Tori’s face.  
Once the boy got your boxer’s off, he exclaimed “Oh, shit, this faggot’s got a pussy!” your vagina was exposed to the cold night air. The others laughed and guffawed.  
“All the better!” he said, unbuckling, his belt and sliding his pants to his knees. His cock sprung swollen and erect, already dripping. Your struggling was to no avail. Just as he lined up, the other two dropped your feet and he was suddenly gone from between your legs. Gasps and shouts pulled your eyes up to the blurry silhouette of the boy being held up by his neck by a large mass. You turned and stumbled away, vision going fuzzy and your ears ringing, a guttural scream piercing the air.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------Jason------------------------------------------------------------------  
Jason had been confused by the exchange he was witnessing, but as soon as the boy pulled out his cock, Jason knew he was one of the bad ones.  
They’re all bad ones! They’re in our forest!  
Right again, mother.  
Jason marched out of the tree line. Everyone’s attention was on the two boys in the light, not noticing his approach as he pushed aside the kids holding the boy’s feet, then grabbed the bigger male by the throat, lifting him up and skewering him through the chest.  
One of the females ran up behind him, leapt onto his back, and drove a knife repeatedly into his torso. Jason yanked the girl off, snapping her neck.  
A boy wrenched the car door open. Jason ended the foolishness with a swift kick to the door, shattering his shins and the fingers on one hand. The others had escaped. That was fine. They wouldn’t for long. He dragged the boy out, leading him to the front of the car, and wrenched the hood open. Jason knew very little about machines, but he figured they didn’t mix well with skulls.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------Reader----------------------------------------------------------------  
You stumbled through the foliage. Your eyes were still not focusing. Your ears heard only muffled sounds. Your scars and bruises burned at every move. The brush scratched at your lower half. Thank goodness they had left your shoes.  
You stopped and steadied yourself with a tree to catch your breath. Your mind was racing. You tried to process everything that had just happened. Beaten, kidnapped, accused, almost raped, and then saved by…who? You didn’t get a good look at your savior before running off. You had no Idea what their motivation was, if they killed anyone, or just beat them up.  
The sounds of snapping branches met your ears. A small bush covered a dip in the ground between two thick roots. You tumbled into it. A figure burst into view. You held your breath. Tori’s sister bolted past. She looked over her shoulder with a look of fear. She vanished further into the brush, the sounds of her movement slowly fading into the foliage. You let out your breath in a sigh of relief.  
A heavy boot landed beside your hiding place. You hadn’t heard any sign of approach. Moving slowly, you got a view of the boot’s owner. The brown hunting boot had a black cargo pant leg tucked into it. The pants were held up by a brown utility belt. The belt held a gray shirt under the pants. The shirt under an olive-colored jacket. The jacket’s owner had a bald head and a hockey mask. He hadn’t seen you yet.  
Jason Voorhees’s masked head turned slowly. You didn’t move a muscle. He still stood there. A quiet mass of a man making no sound. His gaze swept once more. Finally, he marched off as silently as he had arrived.  
You slowly emerged from your shelter. As the adrenaline wore off, you felt a throbbing in your bare leg. Your thigh sported a jagged gash with a steady flow of blood pouring out. You must have cut yourself on a broken branch. You’d have to take care of that before you could get out of here.  
You stumbled through the forest away from Tori’s sister and Jason. Nice of the two biggest threats to you to be in the same direction. You eventually found a small cluster of cabins around a firepit that had clearly not seen use in a long time. All of them looked like they had been thoroughly trashed, even from outside, with shattered windows and broken porches. But you were low on options. You’d just have to hope there were medical supplied in one of them.  
You entered the largest of the cabins and were immediately assaulted by the smell of burnt meat. One of the boys lay across the floorboards, his head charred and crumbling in the fireplace. The lighter beside him suggested he had started it. Bad move. Poor guy.  
You made your way into the kitchen. Another body lay there. Tori. Her neck and wrist wrapped tightly in barbed wire. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve any of this. You had seen her face back in the clearing. None of this was her fault.  
You pulled yourself away from her and searched the cabinets. A first aid kit tumbled out of one. Score! You locked yourself in one of the rooms on the ground floor and got to work on your leg. You didn’t know much about this stuff, but it seemed fairly straightforward. You fixed yourself up as well as you could before making your way back into the forest. Your best idea was to find a road and just follow it until you were out of Crystal Lake, which you figured is where you were.  
Despite your First Aid, you began to become dizzy again. The blood loss was getting to you. You pushed on for a few more minutes until you heard a scream directly to your right.  
There, a few meters away, Tori’s sister struggled against the steel jaws of a bear trap. Tears of pain and panic ran heavily across her face. You couldn’t move. Not toward her, not away. The ground was swaying too much. A large mass loomed silently into view behind her. Jason threw her to the ground and lifted a large sledgehammer high above his head. A single slick crunch ended the one-sided conflict.  
You still couldn’t run. Legs shaking, head spinning, breath labored, blood trickling down your bare leg. The hockey mask snapped in your direction.  
The forest floor rushed up to greet you.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------Jason-----------------------------------------------------------------  
Jason stomped after the girl, the ringleader of these intruders. He couldn’t hear her anymore. The tracks blended in with their surroundings. The smell of blood came from his hands more than hers.   
He had lost her. Not a problem. He still had about an hour before sunrise. Even with the advantage of sunlight, she wouldn’t get away.  
Just as he was about to turn back, A metallic spring and a shout of sudden pain pierced the air. The girl was hunched over with one foot trapped by metal teeth. Jason hefted his hammer in one hand. He grabbed the girl and threw her to the ground. One swift strike and she was no more.  
Six down, one to go.  
Yes, mother.  
As if on cue, a ragged breath drew his attention to the left. The final boy stood there, a half-vacant expression on his face. His lower half was still exposed to the world. He toppled over as his eyes rolled back in his head.  
Jason drew his machete. He hesitated.  
Kill her, Jason!  
He looks like a boy  
It doesn’t matter! She shouldn’t be in our forest!  
He didn’t want to be  
She’s naked to the world! She was about to fornicate on our land! She’s a dirty slut!  
He didn’t want any of that either! He’s innocent!  
You can’t let her go! She’ll come back with others!  
I’ll think of something.  
Jason picked up the boy and slung him over his shoulder. His face was much closer to the exposed parts. He could just barely smell them. Jason couldn’t tell if it was a good smell or a bad one. He stalked off into the night.


	2. House Guests

DAY 1  
Your senses slowly came back to you. The creaking of old wood. The taste of blood in your mouth. The pain and stiffness along your body. The smell of long decayed animal. Your eyes slowly coming into focus. You were lying on your back, looking up at a tattered wooden ceiling, still capable of keeping out the rain. A warm, flickering light came from somewhere in the room.  
You sat up slowly. A blanket fell from your chest and gathered on your lap. You were still wearing your shirt, but your jacket was gone. It wasn’t until you pulled the covers from your nakedness that the memories of last night came flooding back. The beating, the kidnapping, the run through the woods, blacking out after seeing…  
Jason  
Clearly you had gotten away, or someone had saved you, but you were in one of the cabins. You had to get a move on. You stood and surveyed your surroundings. What caught your eye wasn’t the fire in the cobblestone hearth, nor your jacket and boots hung on a hook by the door-less frame. It was to the candle-lit table.  
A rotting head sat there. Around the table lay bodies in more recent stages of decay. The oldest had a pickaxe sticking out of its head. The newest was the headless body of Tori’s sister. You almost threw up. You crept to the doorway, tying the blanket into an awkward skirt. There was only one other room in the shack. The front door stood there. You limped over to it. The door wouldn’t open. Something was keeping it shut from the outside. You would have to find another way out. Quietly. You began to feel the walls for any loose or weakened boards.  
After a minute, you still had found nothing when you heard a scraping sound at the door. You ducked back into the room you woke up in and searched for a place to hide. The sound of the door opening reached your ears and you slipped into the tiny space between two cobweb-filled bookshelves.  
Jason’s gargantuan form entered the room, eerily silent, with a buck slung over his shoulder. Without effort, he knelt before the fire and started skinning and gutting the beast. You slowly crept towards the doorway. He set a slab of meat over the fire, then poured water from a canteen into a cup…  
…And turned directly to face you.  
You froze. Paralyzed, like a kid caught breaking the rules. You stood there staring at each other for a few seconds before you realized he was holding the cup out to you. Another tense moment passed, and he stood up, placing the cup on a shelf. He then strode right past and you heard a heavy scraping sound from the other room. Jason came back and continued to cook the deer.  
You looked into the other room. Jason had slid a bookshelf across the door. Jason sat cross-legged in front of the fire, his back to you. You crept into the other room and examined the shelves. They were too heavy for you to move, especially quietly. They seemed to have been reinforced with large amounts of wood, perhaps for this very purpose.  
When you turned away from the bookshelf, Jason was standing right there, chest less than a foot from your face. His mask showed no hint of anger or any emotions. His large hand reached for you and you shrunk back against the shelves. But he merely reached to your back and applied light pressure, guiding you back into the bedroom and to a sitting position on the mattress. When he reached for the knot in your blanket-skirt, you reflexively stopped his hand.  
“Don’t…” you started.  
He softly guided your hand away, one eye staring directly into yours, the other hidden by shadow. He returned to the blanket and pulled it away. You covered your vagina with both hands, but he showed no interest. Instead, he began to examine the gash in your leg. You hadn’t noticed before, but there were a series of stitches running along the wound, seemingly done by practiced hands.  
Once he was done looking, he returned to the meat cooking over the fire. He sliced off small strips of venison onto a plate. He picked up the water from the table and handed both to you, then retreated to the center table. He sat next to it, legs crossed, gaze locked on you, looking all the world like a child listening to a teacher reading a story.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------Jason-----------------------------------------------------------------  
The boy’s thigh was healing well, but slowly. If Jason had received an injury like that, it would have been further along in healing at this point. He handed his guest a plate of deer and a cup of water, then sat on the floor.  
He was curious about his guest. What did he do for food in the desolate city, where few beasts roamed, and people planted inedible plants? How could he survive in this world when he lacked both strength and stealth? Did all the city folk hate him the way the others had? Why? Did he have a mother? Was she dead, too? What did she whisper into his mind to guide him? And the most obvious, why did he have an innie instead of an outie? All the boys Jason had slain had outies. Girls had innies. He didn’t look like a girl, he didn’t sound like a girl, he didn’t even have any squishies holding up his shirt. He was a mystery.  
The boy stared back at Jason as he slowly ate. Jason struggled to place the look in his face. It was like fear, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t terror like when most people saw him, or horror when they saw one of his victims, it was more like… like the look people had when they were stepping cautiously into a place when they knew Jason was after them, but didn’t know where. Anxious. That was it.  
You should kill her. She shouldn’t be here!  
That wouldn’t be right.  
It’s only a matter of time before others come looking for her!  
They would look for him anyway. Killing him wouldn’t change that. Jason could deal with them anyways.  
Jason put the rest of the deer away. He would eat when the boy went to sleep and couldn’t see him without his mask. For now, he needed to bathe and rid himself of the scent of blood. Prey ran from it. He pulled the large iron basin down from the wall it leaned against and placed it directly in front of the fire where it would heat. He retrieved the barrel of water from the other room and filled the tub.  
He shrugged the jacket from his shoulders. He unbuckled his belt and let it fall to the floor, Pouches, Machete, and all. He stepped out of his boots, his toes curling in the open air. His shirt was next, careful not to let it snag on the mask. Finally, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, bending over to remove them, and they joined the rest of his clothes on the floor. The water was starting to warm when he stepped in. He didn’t need the water to be hot, but it reminded him of before, when mother bathed him.  
Jason leaned back and soaked in the warmth.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------Reader----------------------------------------------------------------  
You watched as Jason put the cooked and uncooked meat into sacks. Then as he prepared a bath for you. Only it wasn’t for you. Jason started undressing. No regard for your presence.  
His jacket slid past thick arms, his shirt sleeves straining over bulging biceps.  
He lifted the tee over his head, revealing rippling abs running down his stomach and a pair of bulbous pecs adorning his chest.  
Your heart raced as he fumbled with his fly. What would the infamous Jason Voorhees have stashed down there? The green fabric made way for firm buttocks pointed up at the ceiling. Then he straightened. All that build-up became a let-down. His testicles were swollen and plump, but his shaft was, well, average. His immense size made it seem even smaller. It was honestly a bit of a disappointment.  
His mask stayed on. He sank into the water, facing away from you. You quietly continued your search for weak walls or floors, keeping a close eye on the bald, masked head. No dice.  
Despite the seriousness of the situation, you still sat back to enjoy the view as Jason climbed out of the bath. Clearly, he had no intention of killing you, but he had to have some reason for keeping you here. You’d rather not be around to find out.  
Jason redressed and left, pushing the bookshelf out of the way and setting up whatever acted as a lock from the outside.  
You turned back to the task at hand. The walls were surprisingly sturdy. No windows were set in the walls. You searched one of the corpses around the table in the center, the one who looked to have been a police officer. No gun. Not that it would help much, even if you killed Jason, you would still have no way out.  
There was a stack of clothes on one of the shelves and you gratefully grabbed a pair of pants and a belt (The pants were very loose on you). You looked at the rest of the items in the room. The sacks of deer, the other table, a matchbox, that would be a good idea if you wanted to bring the shack down on yourself; He had taken the knife with him, the bed, a variety of sex toys that you were sure Jason didn’t know were sex toys, a lifeless flower bed, the tub, still full of slightly dirty and bloody bath water, an array of trinkets that he probably took off his kills, Rope, a small amount of firewood, tinder, and kindling; candles, and a stuffed animal under his bed. Cute.  
You crouched beside the basin and pushed with all your might. It began to tip. A splash of water hissed on the coals of the fire. That much water was heavy. You were beginning to tire; your feet were slipping. You gave one last heave and more water spilled out, extinguishing the fire.  
You let the tub back down and slipped into the fireplace. You put a hand on each side of the stonework and began your climb up the chimney. The cabin was only one story, but your already tired muscles and your injured leg protested at every movement. Finally, you reached the top. But it wasn’t open. A wrought iron grate blocked the opening to the chimney. The bars were spaced enough ho get your hand through, but that was all. You had no way of cutting through or removing it, either.  
You made your way back into the bedroom. You went through the list of items in your head. That’s when it hit you. You had exactly what you needed. Thank you, Jason Voorhees!  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------Jason-----------------------------------------------------------------  
Jason went about his daily chores. He chopped wood for the fireplace, gathered fruits and vegetables from the forest, set traps for a variety of creatures, and gathered mud to plug the gaps in his walls when winter came.  
He then turned his attention to the lodge. Jason could leave whenever he wanted, but his guest would need a chamber pot. He found a large urn on one of the tables. He must have passed it a million times and never even bothered to look at it. This would do.  
When he made it back to the cabin, he moved the log leaning across the door. He stepped inside and slid the shelves over. Jason put the sack of mud and the bundle of firewood down in the first room. The veggies and the vase went with him to the bedroom.  
The boy wasn’t there. The fire crackled in the fireplace, the bath still held water, the plate and mug sat on the bed, but he did not. Jason looked in the tub, under the bed and tables, even around and in the sacks of meat. His guest had vanished. He couldn’t have left through the door, it had still been blocked.  
We can’t let her escape! Go and find her!  
Jason turned and marched into the brush. He wouldn’t have gotten far.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------Reader----------------------------------------------------------------  
Breathing through a fleshlight was probably the weirdest thing you had ever done.  
You hung from the grate by the rope. You had the matchbox that you used with more tinder, kindling, and wood to restart the fire. Your pockets held soil from the flower bed. You had one of Jason’s shirts covering your nose from the smoke, and your lips inside one end of the fleshlight, the other side poking out between the bars, acting as a very gross snorkel.  
You heard Jason unblock the door, followed by the creak of the door, then the bookshelf being slid in front of it. You waited as he presumably searched for you in the room below.  
There was a moment of absolute silence. You held your breath. Maybe he had found you, was staring straight up the stonework at you.  
Then the sound of the shelves being pushed out of the way, and the door’s rusty hinges.  
You let out a sigh of relief. You turned out your pockets and let the dirt fall to the flames, extinguishing them. Clambering out of the hearth, you scampered to the door. You tried the handle. It opened.  
Jason didn’t think to block the door. Why would he? He thought you were already gone.  
You had no Idea which way Jason had gone. You didn’t even know what part of the forest you were in nor where the car was. But better to pick a direction. You could really go in any direction. It would just be a matter of how long it would take before you reached a road.  
You strode in a steady pace, chewing on roasted venison. The rope was slung across your shoulders, the matchbox in your pocket. Jacket and shoes back on. The woods were much less terrifying in the day. The wind sighed softly through the trees, bringing the smell of autumn with it. Birds chirped and sang amongst the branches. The sun shone through the leaves.  
After a while, you found your path blocked by a rocky cliffside. It wasn’t sheer, but very steep. Falling off that wouldn’t be an open drop to the ground. You would hit a lot of rocks on your way. But it did make it easier to climb.  
You rubbed your hands together and grabbed the first ledge. One hand at a time. One leg at a time. 5 meters. There was a large boulder jutting from the cliffside. Skirt around that. 10 meters. Slide along a ledge to an easier spot. keep going. Don’t look down. 15 meters. This stretch has too few hand holds. You push off and clamber up the smooth stone. Your fingers find purchase just as you lose your momentum and your feet slide out from under you. Alright, nearly there. 20 meters. Climb the last sec-  
The rock under your left foot gave way as you were reaching up! Your body swung out over the rocks below, right fingers clenching on their measly ledge, right leg straining to maintain its placement. Your left arm flailed, and you managed to swing back to the wall, grabbing onto more sturdy supports.  
You clung there for a moment, breathing. You waited for your heartbeat to slow and your breath to become softer.  
Looking up, you were surprisingly close to the top. A few more meters and you heaved yourself over the edge. You stood and brushed the dirt off your clothes.  
The next section of the trip took no more than 2 minutes before you came across a river. It was far too long to swim across. Looking left and right, you saw a boathouse up the shore. There wasn’t much inside, just an old metal canoe and a paddle. You grabbed the paddle and began to slide the canoe along the sand and into the water. You pushed off and began to row towards the far shore.  
But the current was much stronger than you had anticipated. In an instant, your boat snapped forward and you were racing downstream. You tried to make your way to the other side, but you could already see white water rapids coming your way.  
The boat crashed into the first rocks and already you almost flew out of the canoe. You scrambled back and pulled the rope off your shoulders. Another crash. You fumbled with the rope, tying yourself firmly to the seat, and the oar to your hand. Water frequently splashed into the boat as you collided with the jagged stones. Finally, you were out of the whitewater. You bailed the water out and checker the sides for damage. You must have hit your head on the side of the boat, because you could rear a rushing in your ears. You sat up. The rushing was directly infront of you. The river continued for a few more meters, tumbled, and seemed to end, revealing only the sky.  
You frantically tried to paddle backwards, but it was too late. You and the boat cascaded over the waterfall. You found yourself in freefall for 3 seconds, then you crashed into the water below. All the air rushed out of your lungs and you clutched at your throat. The rope that had kept you out of the water in the rapids now dragged you down as the metal canoe quickly filled and sank. You tried to untie yourself, but the oar kept your dominant hand from being of much use, the wood reaching for the surface.  
You sank further. Your lungs were beginning to burn. Your knot work had been too perfect. You couldn’t take it anymore. Water flooded into your lungs.  
As you began to writhe and shake, a comforting arm wrapped around your chest. The weight on your waist suddenly disappeared and the oar pulled you back to the surface. Once your face breached the surface, you coughed and sputtered, taking in deep breaths as the reassuring arm dragged you to the shore. Once you were on dry land, you turned over and vomited river water onto the sand.  
You gave yourself another couple of shaky breaths before turning your head to identify your savior. Black Cargo Pants. Gray Tee. Dripping muscles. Hockey Mask.  
Figures.


	3. A connection

NIGHT 1  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------Jason-----------------------------------------------------------------  
The boy was sick. Sweating, Coughing, Shaking, Sneezing. He must have caught something from the river. Right now, Jason had him sitting by the fire wrapped in the blanket. Jason ladled some venison stew into a bowl.  
“Thanks.” The boy said when handed the bowl “My mom makes soup whenever I’m not feeling well. She can’t stay home from work, but when she and Dad come home, we curl up in front of the TV and just watch whatever, Riley lying across our feet. Or…she did…”  
Jason saw the smile slip off the boy’s face. A look of sadness in its place.  
Jason tilted his head in confusion  
The boy took a breath. “Riley was our dog. One of the cleverest and most mischievous dogs I have ever met. We loved her, and she loved us. Enough to try to chase off a rattlesnake a couple weeks ago. She was a good dog. I miss her.”  
Tears were streaming silently down his face. Jason could feel some forming in his own eyes. The boy seemed lost in his own thoughts. That was good, Jason didn’t know how to comfort someone. Feeling uncomfortable, Jason picked up a piece of firewood and began to cut it. Crying wasn’t anything new, but he usually stopped it by killing the crier. He didn’t know what to do here.  
Killing her would work here, too, you know.  
Crying isn’t against the rules.  
The strong live, the weak die. That is how the world works!  
I was weak. Now I’m strong. He can be, too.   
JUST GUT THE BITCH ALREADY!  
I think you might need a time out, Mother.  
Jason picked up mother’s table and placed it in the corner of the room, so her head was facing it.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------Reader-----------------------------------------------------------------  
Jason was busy rearranging the furniture. You ignored him and thought of home.  
You had been gone for 24 hours. Your parents would be worrying about you. The last they’d heard, you were going to the convenience store, shouldn’t have taken too long, then disappeared completely, not returning home that night or the next morning. School would have just dismissed you and Tori as unexplained absences, assuming you were both playing hooky.  
Tori. Her Dad would be worried, too. Both of his daughters were dead. He would be devastated once he found out.  
There was no guarantee you’d make it out, either, you realized. You began to imagine your parents, sitting in the police precinct, being told that their son was dead. They wouldn’t take it well. They were strong, but not that strong.  
Your thoughts were interrupted as Jason thrust something into your hands. It was a small wooden dog. It took you a moment. It was a very well-done German Shepherd. The wood was rough. Jason put a knife back in his pocket.  
“Riley?”  
He gave a nod.  
“You made this?”  
Another nod. It looked nothing like her, but you began to cry even harder at the gift. It was very personal.  
Before you could stop yourself, you flung yourself from the bed and pulled his head down, placing a long, firm kiss on his mask. He stood tense and hunched before his arms tentatively wrapped around you and pulled your body to his 6’5”, 340lb frame.  
You kissed him a little while longer until he suddenly shoved you away, eyes wide. At first you thought you had done something, then you realized he was looking down at the tent in his pants with a look of panic.  
“What’s wrong?”  
He didn’t answer, opting instead to tear his pants away, revealing his swollen erection.  
Holy shit.  
Jason Voorhees was a GROWER.  
It had looked average when it was flaccid, dwarfed by the rest of his body, but now it was his body’s turn to seem small. Easily a foot long. Jason stumbled back into the other wall as if trying to get away from it. He grabbed his machete.  
“No, no! Stop! It’s just a boner!”  
He paused; blade prepared to remove what he must see as an inflated organ. He looked at you and tilted his head.  
“You’ve never had a boner before?”  
A head shake.  
“Males get them when they’re excited…horny.”  
Jason still looked confused.  
“It’s normal. It’ll go away on its own… but, um… I could… help you out with it, you know, if you’re… um… if you want to…”  
He still seemed confused but nodded his head.  
Your heart thundered as you shakily stepped forward. Your eyes flicked between his mask and his swollen, veiny, twitching cock. You knelt in front of him. His head was shiny, already dripping with precum.  
You took his massive shaft in your hand. How did events of your life lead to holding Jason Voorhees’s Dick?  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------Jason---------------------------------------------------------------  
Jason watched with apprehension. The boy knelt in front of him, taking hold of his outie. His whole body spasmed at just this slightest touch. Jason’s mind faltered.  
Then the boy began to slide his hand up and down. Jason gave a guttural moan. His toes curled in his boots. His back arched. The boy began to pump faster. It was overwhelming, yet also not enough.  
Something wet slithered around the tip of his outie. Jason looked back down into the boy’s [your eye color] eyes. His tongue continued to explore the mass of flesh before him, eventually sliding down the underside as his lips enveloped Jason’s tip.  
Jason hadn’t thought anything could feel nearly as good as his hands. His mouth was even better! He was bobbing his head up and down, using one hand on what he couldn’t fit and the other hand fondling Jason’s danglies.  
His breathing was heavy and raspy. Every stroke, every lick, every rub was absolute ecstasy, but it also left a strange pooling feeling in his stomach.  
Suddenly, he felt like had to pee. He tried to stop the other boy, but before he could push him off, all his muscles tensed in an overwhelming feeling of heavenly bliss. He was vaguely aware that he was releasing straight into his mouth. He pulled out, the rest spraying on his face.  
Once his breathing slowed and his mind returned to him, he looked down at the boy. There was gooey white stuff all over his face and dripping out of his mouth.  
Swollen outies and white pee? This was not good!  
\----------------------------------------------------------------Reader-----------------------------------------------------------------  
This was so good! Jason’s cock tasted musky in the best way. Sure, you were practically dislocating your jaw, and that was just on the first 5 inches, but delicious!  
His muscles tensed and twitched under your service, otherwise he stood stonily still. Eyes locked on you, hands and back pressed against the wall behind him, and legs spread wide. Speaking of legs and muscles; those quads! They were thick and pronounced, like they had been sculpted by expert hands from the knees up to where the legs meet.  
He was completely unshaven. Well, that made sense, he wouldn’t need to. But you weren’t expecting his pubes to be soft as a kitten. If your face weren’t occupied with the other end of his dick, you’d rub your face all over them.  
His balls were the size of tennis balls and just as fuzzy, resting in your hand, they pulsed warmly. As you sucked on his massive shaft, they began to constrict.  
Jason stiffened. A warm, salty liquid began to squirt into your mouth, filling it in large, gooey spurts. He suddenly shoved you away, spilling more of his thick cum on your face. Strings of jizz landed across your lips, against your cheeks, over your brows. Screw make-up, this was the best kind of facial.  
You swallowed the spunk in your mouth. You looked up at Jason with a grin but lost the smile when you saw the anxiety behind his mask. He wiped a bit of semen from your chin and inspected it.  
“Totally normal, too.” You glanced down. “Though it looks like you’ve got more to give!”  
He was still rock hard, and you had promised to help. You would have to do more.  
What a shame.  
You guided him to the bed, grabbing a condom from his shelf of sex items and shucking. You straddled his lap, chest to chest, rubbing your slick hole on his thick shaft. You placed kisses along his scratchy jaw as you rolled the condom onto his cock. A hand on his chest guided him down to the cot. You were definitely wet enough to take him. Probably wet enough. Maybe. Hopefully.  
You began to sink down.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------Jason-----------------------------------------------------------------  
Jason let the boy push him down onto the bed, watching curiously as he removed his pants and wrapped a slippery plastic over Jason’s outie. The boy slid onto it. Jason was once again wracked with ecstasy, his hands flying to grip the boy’s [your skin tone] thighs. Breathing heavily once more, Jason’s eyes locked onto the boy’s.  
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”  
Jason didn’t know what “this” was, but he gave a small nod. The boy began to bounce, slowly at first, then picking up speed. With each lift, Jason could feel the boy’s tunnel tighten around him. Even the boy’s mouth now seemed bland in comparison  
The boy’s hands began to traverse Jason’s body. Jason followed his lead, feeling his smooth skin. The boy slid Jason’s shirt off, using the motion to lean down to place soft kisses along his chest, shoulder, and neck. Jason’s hands roamed around the boy’s back and down his spine. His butt was round and soft. Jason squeezed the soft flesh,  
The boy cried out. Jason jumped, hands off the body on top of him.  
“Oh! Do that again!”  
Jason eyed the boy warily, unsure if he had hurt him, but put his hands back on the voluptuous booty. The boy began to bounce again. He started mumbling both bad words and praises. But it seemed like he was enjoying this, too.  
“Mph, yeah, fuck yeah, you’re so big! god damn! Mmm, fuck!”  
Jason gave an experimental thrust with his hips. The boy gasped again  
“Oh fuck! Fuck me, Jason! Fuck yes!”  
Jason felt needy from the feeling and energized by the praise. He planted his feet. He grabbed the boy’s waist.  
He rammed himself into the tight hole above him with vigor.  
“Ah, hah! Fu-fuck! Oh, Jason! Ah, shit!”  
Jason could feel something deep within his loins churning. His body was hot and he was sweating. But he wanted more.  
He could only do so much on his back, putting all their weight on his muscular shoulders and feet to grind inside the boy. It didn’t hurt, he just couldn’t put enough force behind his thrusts! Jason grunted. He wrapped an arm around the boy and flipped them over, so he was on top. He paused. The boy’s eyes were half closed. His teeth tugging at his lower lip with a sly smile. Jason was captivated. A clench around his shaft reminded him what they were doing. Jason pulled back and pummeled the flesh beneath him fast and hard. The sounds filled the air  
*clap clap clap clap clap clap clap*  
“Mhh mm hmgh”  
“Shit! Oh shit! Yes! Oh fuck, Jason! I’m gonna— I’m gonna c-cum!”  
He writhed beneath Jason. The sounds of flesh against flesh took a much wetter tone. Jason couldn’t hold it anymore! Pure ecstasy flooded through his veins. All of his muscles tightened at once, and he felt fluids gushing out through his shaft into the thin veil of plastic. Jason grunted as the last few spurts dribbled out. Exhaustion hit him hard. He collapsed onto the boy, breathing heavily.  
When his energy finally returned, he slowly pulled himself out. The boy gave a soft moan. The end of the rubber sleeve had swollen with the sticky white stuff. Too tired to even finish undressing, he stretched out next to the already unconcious boy, falling asleep in an instant, still wearing his shirt, mask, and boots.


End file.
